1 Corinthians 15:1-11

1Now I should remind you, brothers and sisters, of the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, 2through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you — unless you have come to believe in vain.

3 For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, 4and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, 5and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. 7Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8Last of all, as to someone untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10But by the grace of God I am what I am, and God’s grace towards me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them — though it was not I, but the grace of God that is with me. 11Whether then it was I or they, so we proclaim and so you have come to believe. THIS IS HOLY WISDOM, HOLY WORD. THANKS BE TO GOD.

Surprise!

This morning I join the legion of preachers who will do two things: proclaim the good news of the resurrection of Christ and point out the irony that it is April Fools’ Day.  Perhaps this is fitting since Paul calls the truths of Spirit foolish in the eyes of the world.

I have been thinking of memorable April Fools’ gags. Where I went to college there is a river right through the center of campus and one year, having lost track of the date one day, I awoke to a front page story in the school paper, complete with a picture, of the river filled with rubber duckies, a train carrying them apparently having overturned upstream.  I don’t think I was the only one who made their way down to the banks shortly thereafter, though I tried my best to look cool as if I was headed that way all along.

          Google is notorious for April Fools’ pranks.  One year they introduced motion sensing commands for Gmail and scores no doubt found themselves repeatedly trying to send emails with hand signals.  Another year, they boasted of self-driving bikes, even posting a seemingly miraculous video.  Zappos, the online shoe company, got in the game and promised invisible boxes.  Then there was Burger King Whopper-flavored toothpaste.

          A few months back, I was with other clergy at a board meeting for the Interfaith Counseling Center.  We were talking about this realization of the convergence of Easter and April Fools’.  One of the counselors surmised that perhaps on Easter morning Jesus was the most surprised of all.  I love that notion.  We’ve so layered the Jesus story in inevitability that perhaps we’ve robbed it of its wonder.  Were not Jesus’ prayers in the garden genuine, his cries upon the cross of heavenly betrayal earnest?  I find the notion that raising Jesus from the dead on the third day may have surprised even him in keeping with what I know of God, for who is God, but the one who meets us in our despair, when we think it’s all over and there’s no way forward, and says, “Surprise!  Get up!”

          It’s hard for us to be surprised at Easter because we know what to expect.  Even those for whom the faith (in this form) is not central know to be here and know on some level what today is supposed to mean.    Yet when we get to church on Easter we encounter the hard part – and I don’t mean those pews.  No, the difficult part for so many, including so many in the faith, is the mental leap people feel obliged to take with the Easter story.  If they are unable, they leave feeling like failures and all too often stay away.  I don’t blame that response.  I would stay away from something that made me feel like a failure too.  It makes me wonder if we have missed the point of Easter?

          Is the point to agree upon the biological machinations of the resurrection, or is it to receive as gift these recollections passed down to us and in them to uncover layer after layer of meaning and truth?  Those who’ve had a religious experience, a spiritual experience, will know that simple reporting, that regular language doesn’t suffice.  Our language always falls short when we describe God, so we must speak in image, allusion, metaphor and tale.  These accounts of this mysterious event that have been handed down to us point us to the deeper mysteries of life, of God’s being, and our being (in God).

          As such, these accounts are precious.  Listen to what Paul writes:

3 For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, 4and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, 5and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. 7Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8Last of all, as to someone untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace towards me has not been in vain. (I Cor. 15:3-10)

           More than 500, women and men, and even Paul.  I say “even” Paul, because Paul never knew Jesus before the crucifixion.  He only met the risen one.  More than 500 in those days and weeks after the crucifixion.  Crucifying Jesus only expanded his reach, it seems.  This force of God cannot be contained or limited.  I know at times the church has been guilty of trying, but at our best we exist to help one another access it, and join in its movement as it works for the wellbeing of things. 

          Achieving the wellbeing of things can feel like a tall order sometimes, whether we are thinking of our own lives or the life of our shared world.  Are there not moments when it seems as though there is no path to wellbeing, as though there is no way forward, and in fact the only movement seems to be in the wrong direction? 

There is always no way forward...right up until there is. By definition.  That’s how it works.      There is a wonderful concept in the Quaker tradition, a tenet of faith if you ask me, that if the way isn’t clear, you trust a way will open.  Friends, as they are called, were labeled “Quakers” as a pejorative term, mocking how they sat still and quiet until quaking with the Spirit.  Well, Quakers could teach us a thing or two about being quiet and still, not so willfully distracted by noise, so they can connect to Spirit and then proceed as the way appears, confident that divine guidance will continue to open the way.[1]  “A way will be made,” I’ve heard some say.

The point of Easter is not to figure out how it happened, but what it means, and part of what it means is out of nothingness a way will appear.

          I believe the women who went to the tomb that morning trusted a way would be made.  They couldn’t have known what they would find when they set out in the cool fog of that morning, but they set out nonetheless with spices to anoint the body, because that’s what needed to be done.  In doing so, they become models for us all, of enduring,

of putting one foot in front of the other even when the way forward seems anything but clear. They simply stepped forward in faith.  Imagine what that must have been like.  In the crucifixion their hope had been shattered.  It was over.  He was dead.

          And then he was not and it was not.  When the new opening, the new reality presented itself, there the women were, present to receive it, and what they received was the greatest gift of all--the realization that it wasn’t over after all.  It was just beginning.  What seems to have won, hasn’t won.  What seems to be the ultimate truth, and finality, is a passing illusion, one destined to be absorbed by a greater light.  Christ had died, but Christ is risen and all those who have a resurrection faith are likewise invited into this new reality.  

          Just as this new possibility in the midst of seeming impossibility shows up to the women and the men, to the apostles and to the 500 plus unnamed, new possibility appears in our world too, right in the places that seem most dead.  Some of you can testify to that in your own lives.  I know it.

          I know many people, many religious people, who have worked hard and given much to try and reduce the violence in our country.  Yet, as we all know the issue of access to guns has been intractable in our society.  There has been no way forward, and then there was Parkland, not just the Parkland students who were killed, but those who have roared to life.  We can say others should have gotten our attention.  We can point out, as the Parkland students have, that their demographic has been some of the reason for their attention.  Whatever the reason, something has happened, and something is happening.

          Many of you saw the short speech, among all the other speeches, during the “March for Our Lives” just a couple of weeks ago given by 9 year old Yolanda King, granddaughter of Martin Luther King, Jr.  Just her appearance spoke.  Perhaps even more powerful than what she said at the rally, however, was what she said in an interview around that time while on a panel.  It has left me quaking.  It’s hard to find online because the search engines all assume you’re looking for the speech, but it was the interview.  In it , the interviewer says to her, “You never knew your grandfather, but knowing that everything you have heard, what do you think that he would think about you and this movement?”

          She says, “He would probably be amazed that all of these people are getting together.”  It seems simple enough.  There isn’t really anything else for her to say; she’s 9!  Then, there is, “And a few days ago,” she says, “I had a dream about him.”

          “You did not,” says the interviewer in surprise (we resist new realities for a moment), “Tell me about that dream.”

          She describes seeing him in a museum, and he’s come back to life.  It’s fuzzy—that’s how dream reality is.  All these reporters and cameras are around him trying to interview him.  Now think about that image.  We’re leaning in to hear his voice, the prophetic voice.  Yolanda took from that dream that her grandfather is with her right now.  All of this took place before she knew she’d be a speaker at that march. [2]

          Something is happening.  Someone is happening.  The prophets are awakening and they’re trying to speak to us again, to speak through us like the Spirit did in the days of old when they thought Jesus was Elijah back from the grave. 

Just when you think hope is buried, your faith is in vain, and the forces of death have the last word…Surprise! Get up! Christ is risen....  And we are too!  Amen. 

 [1] From, “A Quaker Glossary,” http://downingtownfriendsmeeting.org/glossary.htm

[2] http://www.cnn.com/TRANSCRIPTS/1803/24/cnr.05.html